


Don't Fuss Over Me

by Dhílis Captaen (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: The Revenant (2016)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Dh%C3%ADlis%20Captaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Andrew didn’t know which pain was worse. The one in his chest, or the one in his head.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Fuss Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Graphic Violence tag for**  
>  Implied scalping; implied gun shot wound.

Andrew didn’t know which pain was worse.  
  
Was it the pain echoing around his chest, the burning sensation of his seared flesh cracking and curling, the thudding pain of what had to be the bullet moving slowly through his heart every time it beat?  
Or was it the sharp pain in his head, echoing around his skull, the nerves in his scalp exposed to the freezing cold temperatures and the snow coating the rough terrain he lay on.  
  
His body was shivering violently, teeth chattering so loudly that Andrew couldn’t hear anything over them. His chest burned, like someone was holding an open flame inside the hole present there.  
His heart felt like it was working overtime, which it more than likely was. Adrenaline was coursing around his body, trying to give him the energy to get up and run. All he needed to do was run to his horse, just a few meters away.  
All he had to do was get to his horse, and then he could cling to him as it carried him back to the fortress.  
  
They were only a day and half out, there was a _chance_ \- no.  
  
No, why was he lying to himself?  
  
He was a doctor’s son; he knew the chances of him surviving this with a team of trained doctors helping him now as he lay in the snow promising himself little white lies.  
  
No, he could never survive a day and a half trip in this state.  
  
Fitzgerald would either be tried for treason and murder, or he would be murdered by Glass. Either way, the business would be dealt with. The men were desperate for pay; they would go retrieve the pelts. Glass might take charge, or the company would stand someone up in his place.  
  
No, no, there wasn’t much for Andrew to do, really, and it was a good job too – the pain in his head was gone, and the burning sensation in his chest was diminishing quicker than the snow in the spring.  
  
So, as the pristine white snow filtered down from the dark grey clouds above him, and settled on top of him, turning red with blood depending on where they landed – the man smiled, admiring the beauty of nature even in the presence of death and decay – and Captain Andrew Henry breathed his last.

**Author's Note:**

> #CAPTAINANDREWHENRYDESERVEDBETTER  
> #FUCKFITZGERALD


End file.
